


not the most ideal situation

by oldpotatoe (hellafandoms)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Humor, Canon-Typical Violence, Families of Choice, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Loss of Powers, No-powers!Peter, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Protective Tony Stark, Protective Wanda Maximoff, Tony Stark Has A Heart, again more tags will be added as I figure out what I'm actually doing, because I said so, wow am I the first one to use this tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-25 07:02:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14971646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellafandoms/pseuds/oldpotatoe
Summary: Peter feels like he's finally got a grasp on this whole superhero shebang. He'd almost forgotten what life had been like before he'd been bitten by that Oscorpian spider.Until a seemingly run-of-the-mill battle goes wrong, stripping Peter of all his powers and making him...normal. Well, as normal as he'd ever been. But it's not all clumsy feet and general un-stickiness ("Where'd my abs go!" he sob-screamed, poking his bellybutton despairingly), as more danger looms on the horizon.For now, it'll honestly be a God-danged miracle if he can remember where he stashed his old glasses.





	not the most ideal situation

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I'm attempting a multi-chaptered fic. Please be gentle, I'm British.

“Well, this isn’t ideal,” Peter grunted, gingerly peeling himself off the wall he’d just been slammed into.

A Spider-Man shaped hole was left behind comically in the dusty red bricks, complete with splayed limbs. Peter assessed the damage and winced. He’d (probably) live, but the bruises would be a real pain in the ass tomorrow. _Quite literally_ , Peter thought as he clenched his butt muscles, feeling the imprint of the bricks through the suit’s spandex.

“You don’t say,” Tony huffed. The man had blasted three of the mechanical lizard-dog-robot things in quick succession in the time it had taken Peter to blink the stars out of his eyes. Show-off.

Peter webbed another two lizard-dog-robot things together, flicking his wrist to send them slamming into the ground. “How many more of these creatures left, Mr Stark?” he yelled. “I’ve got a Spanish quiz tomorrow!”

“ _Supongo que lo sabremos pronto_ ,” quipped Tony, punching a hole straight through the head of another lizard-dog-robot thing.

God, they really needed a better name for these things.

“Peter, incoming.” Karen’s voice and his spidey-sense simultaneously rang out, and he ducked to avoid the razor-sharp jaws of the LDRT just in time. He webbed its jaw shut, then flipped over it, making sure to kick as hard as he could to propel himself away from it. Its head shattered from the force of the blow. _Noice_ , he thought.

Unfortunately for him, he’d misjudged and flipped a bit too hard. A few metres away, there were a dozen LDRTs snarling and snapping their mechanical jaws. Right where he was going to make his landing in approximately 0.5 seconds.

_Not noice_ , his mind supplied helpfully as his eyes widened under the mask. _Not noice at all, nope, abort aboRT-_

A metal arm grabbed his waist, catching him before he could become doggy-chowder. The LDRTs became frenzied, frantically chomping at the air where Peter’s leg had been a millisecond before. He gulped audibly, feeling a bit woozy.

Iron Man flew to a nearby building with Spiderman clinging to him like a limpet, depositing him gently on the concrete roof. Or at least trying to. It took a few full-body shakes and an exasperated “Err, Pete?” for Peter to realize he’d stuck himself to Tony’s suit, slightly reminiscent to a sloth clutching to a tree.

“Oh.” Peter, grimacing sheepishly, forced himself to let go. Unfortunately, he was so embarrassed that he momentarily forgot how the laws of gravity worked. He slammed face-first onto the roof.

Peter could almost _hear_ Tony rolling his eyes above him. “Take five, kid. Come back when you think you’re ready.” With that, he engaged his thrusters and flew back off towards the battle.

He rolled over until he was splayed on his back, staring up at the downcast Brooklyn sky. He sighed wearily. “ _Really_ not ideal.”

Karen broke through his haze of mournful self-pity. “Peter, there are twenty more creatures heading towards the Brooklyn bridge. My heat sensors tell me there is a family trapped in one of the cars on the bridge.”

He snapped off the ground like he’d been electrocuted. Which he had been just a week previously, and boy had that not been a fun learning experience. His left eyebrow had twitched spastically for three days afterwards. “Karen, co-ordinates.”

 

Around 30 minutes later, covered in shallow gashes and sporting a limp, Peter swung himself back to where Tony and Wanda were standing. Surrounding them were various smoking pieces of metal, littering the ground in tiny toothy pyres. Peter shuddered.

“Well, that’s the last of them,” Tony announced. “FRIDAY, call the clean-up crew to pick up all this lizard-doggy doo doo.”

Wanda, who had arrived around five minutes previously and was responsible for single-handedly destroying three quarters of the creatures, snorted loudly. “Doo doo,” she mouthed to herself, smiling. Peter sometimes forgot she wasn’t much older than he was. He liked hanging out with Wanda, albeit in better circumstances than this. She always kicked his ass at Mario Kart, and baked a mean Sokovian chocolate tart, the latter of which she almost force-fed him. “Eat,” she’d say while pinching his (rather defined, if he did say so himself) bicep and muttering to herself. “You’re too skinny for your age. Need to get big and strong if you want to be a superhero.” And Peter would gasp in mock offence, then grin and shove a big helping of the torte into his mouth, big enough that his cheeks would stick out like a pufferfish and make Wanda laugh.

He’d found out about Pietro whilst reading up on the Accords in the new Avengers tower upstate. Wanda was the closest thing to a sibling Peter had ever had (apart from Ned obviously). If eating his weight in chocolate torte meant that she was happy, then Peter would happily die via, well, death by chocolate.

Wanda smiled at him as he landed next to her. He tilted his head first at her, then at Tony, and she started snickering.

“ _Doo doo_ ,” they chorused, and burst out giggling. Tony rolled his eyes.

“I forgot I work with toddlers now,” he grumbled.

The giggles intensified.

When they eventually ran out of giggles, Wanda gently shoved Peter in the shoulder. “Did the doggies bite you? Are you hurt?” she asked with masked worry, giving him a concerned look over.

He shook his head. “Nothing my healing abilities haven’t already fixed.” It was true; most of his wounds had already began stitching themselves shut, though his butt still twinged with the faint remembrance of the wall it had slammed into.

Wanda, having come to the same conclusion, relaxed slightly. “Good,” she said, and shoved him with more force than before. Affectionate shoving was very much a Wanda-thing, and had often devolved into the two of them having shoving matches (Peter often lost, though not for lack of trying). “Let’s go get something to eat. Stark called me over before I could finish my lunch.” She glared at Tony over her shoulder, clearly mourning the loss of a good meal.

Tony visibly shrank on himself and shrugged. “Hey, there’s a shawarma joint a few blocks from here,” he quipped hastily, “Cap _loves_ their chicken shawarma. He says it’s real tender and juicy. Wanna try? I’m buying.”

Wanda immediately brightened up at the mention of Captain America, and Tony winked at Peter surreptitiously. Peter knew she idolized Steve, and if that shawarma was Steve-approved then it was also Wanda-approved, taste be damned.

“Yeah, I’m down,” Peter bounced on the tips of his toes. He was also starving, which was unsurprising considering his enhanced metabolism. Shawarma sounded like sheer bliss.

“Let’s g-”

 

Sometimes, when his spidey-sense warned him, his body acted without his conscious decision. It would recognise the danger and avoid it, before his brain had even had a chance to register the threat. Everything would happen blindingly fast, and he’d only realize what had happened after he was safe. It had saved his life countless times.

This was not one of those moments. Time seemed to slow down as a chill ran down Peter’s back. It felt like he was moving through molasses as he turned towards Wanda to see the dart flying towards her.

There was no time, and no other choice. Peter grabbed her just as the dart reached them, shoving her down to the ground.

 

Everything rushed back into motion. “Oww, Peter!” Wanda yelped from the ground. “I didn’t push you that hard! What was that for?”

Tony turned back towards them, sighing exasperatedly. “Kids, stop fighting or I’ll turn this car back aroun-” He froze as he caught sight of Peter, standing protectively over Wanda.

Peter, who had a dart sticking out of his neck.

Peter, who had started to sway on his feet.

Tony ran forward and caught Peter just as the kid’s knees buckled. Wanda sprung to her feet and lashed out a wave of red tendrils at the area from where the dart had come from.

A faint scream rang out, followed by a thump as the supposed culprit was slammed into the ground.

Peter didn’t hear the scream. His ears were already too busy, buzzing with the drone of what seemed like a thousand bees. Mr Stark was holding him in his lap, frantically yelling something at him, but he couldn’t hear the words through the damned _buzzing_. Peter blinked up at him owlishly, struggling to keep his eyes open.

Weird, he could have sworn it had been daytime just a second ago.

“Oh man,” he slurred, “I’mma fail tha’ Shpanish quiz fo’ shur.”

His eyes slipped shut, and didn't open again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I pulled the Spanish off of Google Translate, so please let me know if it's complete gibberish! It's supposed to say "I guess we'll find out soon", but G. Translate has burned me before. Full ragrets.


End file.
